


Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

by Esurielt



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: A lot of wing kink, AU, American College, American Road Trip, Aziraphale could see Wings, Bentley, Christmas, Human AU with Wings, Love Confession, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Resolved, Unresolved Sexual/Romantic Tension, West Coast, no beta we die like man, soulmate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 21:41:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20264941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esurielt/pseuds/Esurielt
Summary: It is the first time Crowley realized that wine actually could leave lips stained. Dark, silky purple permeated the thin pink skin on Aziraphale's mouth, and it looked desperately like the color of an indecent lady's lipstick. "He should always be like this. " Crowley thought to himself, heart aching and half terrified, "Wearing that dark purple red and smell of fermented berries and his white dovey feather all spread out over smooth black sheets. A sinned Angel. "OrIn which Aziraphale sees wings.OrAziraphale and Crowley go across continent for Christmas.-Still under heavy construction!





	Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

\- 

Even with the superpower of doing 70s downtown , there was only that much you could do in front of the 11 a.m. traffic jam outside Los Angelos Airport , especially in the holiday season. The red-haired driver of a particularly striking vintage Bentley scowled at the seamless sea of cars stuffed into the narrow exit of the highway and hardly moving. He slammed on his wheel which produced a couple of horn sounds that could only be described as antique. 

"_Crowley_\- " The man sitting next to him warned disapprovingly. His soft curls fair as the noon sunshine and dressed in a creamy color jumper with snowy shirt. He looked sternly at his companion's eyes behind the sunglasses , "Patience is a virtue. " 

"And that's exactly why you shouldn't be expecting it on me , angel. " 

The fair-haired man blinked , and a trace of pink went across his cheeks. "Oh dear boy , " He looked away , "Don't you start calling me that again. " But Crowley wasn't listening , he stuck his neck out of the car and honked his horn repeatedly , hissing at the cars trying to get ahead of him and left Aziraphale's thoughts racing on his own. 

The college life on the west coast was composed of ineffable details that Aziraphale couldn't point his fingers upon. He definitely wouldn't say he didn't enjoy the experience despite what most of his other relatives felt - they don't talk much anymore , not since they moved to the States and especially not after Aziraphale decided to come to the other side of the continent. His cousin Gabrial visited him twice , and only frowned when he showed him around the campus , especially seeing the countless California crowds in their half-transparent yoga pants , washed-out band T-shirts and colorful hair ; they did always put Aziraphale self-conscious in his hard-collar shirts , but there was nothing better to see Gabrial being put on edge by a rainbow color flyer stuffed into his hand. 

There is something else Aziraphale kind of liked about his college life - his world is less crowded. The street is much broader than those near his east coast home and further back in England. Also the Wings are much more sacred here , which left out a large amount of space in his field of vision to actually see the street sign. 

It's not to say that the west coast people are indecent or unkind. Not everyone has wings and it's nothing related to their personalities. Being sort of an expert on wings over the years , ( Afterall , Aziraphale has never met another person who shares the same Sight , ) he still hasn't figured out the proper rule for the "Distribution of Wings". Gabriel has wings - quite a big pair , silky white and a shade of grayish blue covering the tips , under the sunset , Aziraphale has found a bit of purple tint flickering. It's one of the most impressive pairs of wings that Aziraphale has seen , and could only be described as angelic ; but technically , everyone knows that he is - not exactly the opposite , but quite an arse indeed. Anathema , for example , the sweetest and kindest girl he met here on campus , doesn't have wings - not even pixy wings ; though Aziraphale couldn't hide a smile in front of even her sternest face and secretly thinks she has magical powers. 

But on the west coast he also met the most unique wings. Take Crowley for example - the first time he saw Crowley in the crowd , he was too stunned and amazed to even think properly. All he could focus on was the pitch-black wings behind his back , stretching and closing restlessly. 

He had never , not ever , seen a pair of black feathery wings. 

There were some gray wings like those of a collared dove , bat wings too , he have even seen some scary looking skeleton wings and quite a few burnt wings , but most of the wings he saw were yellowish ivory ; and most of them are very small , shorter than arm's length. Aziraphale's wings are also ivory , just larger than usual and about one and a half arm long. Crowley's wings are large too , draping comfortably behind his shoulder - it's folded , so Aziraphle knows it's must be as big as his own , hell , it might be as big as Gabriel's wings!  ( He's seen them stretched full once when Gabriel was furious with his underlings in highschool.  ) Crowley's wings , they were not exactly raven , but sleek , pure marble black feather glittered in front of the sky , the color of starmatter shimmered and dazzled Aziraphale's eyes , radiating a hue of wicked red. He found himself once again revisiting the question of whether if the wings really represent people's soul - and wondering how Crowley could have a soul that's both so dark and dangerous , but breathtakingly beautiful. 

Right now Crowley's black feathers stood up like the furs of an angry street cat. They crumpled into the car and the tips wiggled as the chill winter wind blow into the window. That was also unusual - normally , people don't feel their wings and they shoot straight into the pieces of furniture and clipped through the walls , like the terrible hitboxes of an old video game. It looks horrifying and a little bit painful. Aziraphale has tried to warn and catch them when he was still very very young , but he soon learned that only he could see them and even his hands went through the boned structure like air  (, but usually followed by an extreme discomfort of the owner , yes , he had done it a couple of times to Gabrial when he couldn't help himself ) . Aziraphale has always kept his wings safely outside the solid matters and he could touch them when he focuses really hard. But Crowley dodges the real matters too. It's like Crowley's wings were extra sensitive to the hard surfaces - or maybe he could feel his wing as well. Aziraphale did not know , and the possiblity made his heart pounding loudly in his throat. 

\- 

The first time they talked was at a frat party. 

Of course Aziraphale himself wasn't in the fraternity , he was that kind of person who "wouldn't mind partying but left alone he would always be reading." His roommate Shadwell was a "pro member of the enormous organization" , as he introduced , and there was an event on Friday night in need of an "extremely clear-minded guardian" for which Aziraphale sounds just right. 

"Sounds like fun. " he agreed to the invitation curiously , "What is the society you said called again? " 

"The WFA. " Shadwell's voice muffled , probably overly applying his hair gel in the bathroom and Aziraphale could smell it on the other side of the dorm , "It's a secret organization , perhaps you have heard of it. " 

So on Friday night Aziraphale learned that his task was to hang out a bit in the party - but not to consume too much alcohol and to make sure no one made trouble or played music too loudly. The first hour had been fun , not a lot of people , music was too noisy to his taste , not many wings and people playing silly but interesting games. He talked to a nice girl about her problem with her boyfriend compassionately  ( "Oh dear , I'm sure he would understand. " ) and stood nervously by the wall in the gaps of conversations. When people started streaming in was when he got on edge , wings no longer could dodge and uncomfortably pressing to his back. He got out of the house for a while , a little tipsy from the crowd and strong drinks. The warm air of Southern California in all the seasons brushed his neck , bringing a hint of wet grass in the scent. 

Then he heard it , someone singing in the crowd and people started shouting and singing with him. It wasn't bad , but the song was of the more popular genre that Aziraphale couldn't appreciate much. Then there was a particularly quick verse and the voice sang it solo , people cheered and it was getting very noisy. 

Should it be the time his duty kicks in? Aziraphale didn't know , so he popped his head back into the room. The cheers and singing streamed out from the half-opened door. A man was standing on the table with a curled magazine as microphone , body soft and hips wiggled as if he has no bones. The decorative neon light flashing on the side of the person's face , and on his - his large , shiny black wings. Aziraphale gasped. 

It was that black-wing man he saw in class , just a few rolls ahead of him , slouching in three people's seats. 

He blinked and told the nearest person politely to lower down the volume. No one cared. 

Then the music changed , a suddenly quiet and beautiful piano lingered with a sad air. The crowd silenced as Crowley's singing began to penetrate the crowd. 

"... Love of my life , can't you see ; Bring it back , bring it back. Don't take it away from me... " 

The song was beautiful , and people started humming and singing along in much quieter tones. In the dim light , Aziraphale saw the unique yellowish green of his hazel eyes , a gentle smirk forming under the flattering shadow of his lashes. Black wings slightly unfold as neon color outlining the powerful muscle under the patagium. For a moment , Aziraphale could only stare in awe. 

There couldn't be anything more sinning and tempting on earth , he thought absently , eyes locked onto the gin-colored hue of his pupils. He steps into the room and closed the door behind him , locking away the music from outside. 

He bumped into Anathema not long after. she told him she was actually in the opposite sorority and helped him with some juicy drink that made Aziraphale's head spun. Then the party started to get wild. Games confusing. People yelling and laughing and crying and drinking all at the same time. Another man stepped onto the table like Crowley and said something stupid and fell , vomiting on a group of girls who started screaming. 

Aziraphale frowned so hard that his eyes almost shut. 

"Well , " Someone next to him said , "that went down like a lead balloon. " 

The voice was close , and familiarly low and lazy , muffled in the music ; but Aziraphale felt the gaze so he has to looked up. Crowley was standing there , head tilted toward him and knees bent relaxingly to be on the same height , black wings flattered against the wall like tickled cat's ears. He leaned closer and said loudly with a thick English accent , "I said , 'that went down like a lead balloon.' " 

\- 

"What d'you suppose we do now? " Crowley slouched on his left leg with his luggage in hand. 

When they finally got to the terminal door their flight was already 10 minutes in the air ; the teller at the counter apologetically told him that all the flights to Boston were booked full until next week even in front of Aziraphale's particularly heart-warming dog eyes and Crowley's "money-is-not-a-problem" attitude. So they went back to the Bentley in the long-term parking lot. 

Aziraphale signed and looked particularly drained , which made Crowley uneasy on his feet. 

"Look , I'm sorry , alright? We should be out earlier. " 

Aziraphale shook his head and pursed his lips , "I'm not blaming you. " 

"You are - " The taller man groaned and put the luggage back into the trunk and they got back into the car in silence together. The way out of the airport was surprisingly smooth - almost ironic to the time they spent coming into the World Blvd. The radio played some Freddy Mercury and Crowley resisted the urge to hum. He stole a glance at the fair-haired man's prim face. 

"How am I supposed to anticipate this... " He couldn't help , hands waving off the wheels and said , "Almost 2 hrs on the bridge - the design of the highway is complete crap. " 

"If you don't pack at the last minute - " 

"See! What did you say? " 

"I'm just speaking the truth! " 

The air tensed for a moment. Freddie continued to sing something about dreaming in the winter on the radio and Crowley started to tap his fingers on the wheel. Aziraphale turned to him , and saw their black and white wings brushed for a split second ; his body flinched and softened like a balloon being pierced. 

"The overpass /was/ demonic..." He mumbled. 

"You know what angel , I will buy you lunch. " Crowley said immediately , "There is that Italian place I meant to tell you about , just opened at Beverly Hills - " 

"Oh Crowley , I'm sure it's nice , I just..." 

"And what's the big deal about spending Christmas on campus? The dorm is closed , but you can come stay at mine. Or we could always come to LA if you want." 

"It's just going to be the first time I miss the Christmas Dinner at home. " 

There was something in Aziraphale's voice , that made Crowley had to turn to him. His sunglasses sliding down his lean nose bridge , looking into the delicate blue water of Aziraphale's eyes. The later sat decorously on the black leather seat , looking down at the soft hands folding together on his knees. And that's exactly why Crowley had chosen that nickname , he thought to himself , almost could see the warm light glowing faintly around him. 

"We could drive back." He said under his breath. 

"What did you say , dear?" 

"We could drive back , you know. If you are so inclined to go home. " 

It's Aziraphale's turn to look up wide-eyed , "But that's crazy! You mean driving across the entire Continent?" 

"It sounds like fun. " Crowley spread his hand and Aziraphale screamed "Car , Crowley! Look out for that car!" 

\- 

The accent turned out to only be the start of a series of pleasant surprises about their acquaintance. Crowley was not only originally from England , but also come from the east coast. 

"Cambridge? That's so close! " Aziraphale exclaimed as he took his fish taco salad from the waiter , "I live up north. Just off the edge of Malden. " 

Crowley's eyebrow appeared on top of his sunglasses rim and took a huge bite of his burger while listening to Aziraphale rumbled on about the nice restaurants in the area , and trivial things when his family first move to the States. Aziraphale knew he enjoyed it from the relaxed commentaries and the little wiggles of the black wings when he talked about something particularly amusing. They often share lunch like this now - , especially after the Arrangement. The Monday after the party they sat together in their Philosophy class and held an actual philosophical debate about whether it is immoral to eat sushi without soy sauce - then realized neither of us took the notes. 

"We should split the responsibilities. " Crowley said after a few times , "There is really no need for us to... you know , both pay attention. I have this quantum exam tomorrow - " 

"What , Crowley! Absolutely not!" Yelled the other party , "I can't believe you are suggesting such a thing! How am I going to face... our lovely Professor! " 

Aziraphale then gave him the primmest face , well , but that's two weeks before the first deadly midterm. 

At the end of the first semester , they sprawl across a study room table in the library , Aziraphale's distinct handwriting and Crowley's printed notes spreading on the table. 

"You going back home for the break? " Aziraphale asked in a pile of Foucault , comparing his writing on the margins with Crowley's ... what could only be called as lecture outlines. 

"Probably , yeah. " Crowley glance up , his wings flattered a second on the question , but then fell flat and uninterested. His attention turned back to the Russell he was doodling , "Haven't booked the flight yet." 

"Oh you really should , the price already went sky rocket now. I have been meaning to do it too - We could book it together. " 

The invitation slipped out of Aziraphale's mouth before he knows it , he looked up holding his breath. And Crowley - frowned. 

This made Aziraphale ’ s heart sunk a little. Why is he frowning? Perhaps it's a terrible suggestion , absurd and totally out of his place to ask something like this. Too close , too - loud. 

"Sure. " Crowley said then , "Easier than searching it myself. " 

\- 

"It's gonna take about 43 hours to drive. " Crowley stuffed a mouthful of the tiny burgers while looking at his phone , "not too bad. Got a charger? " 

"Yes , it's in the car - You have to count the hours for rest too." Aziraphale took a sip from his tea because he already finished his lamb , "And eating. And personal hygiene. " 

"Well we have at least a week. We would go across Utah and Denver. " 

Aziraphale's eyes brightened. 

"It seems like Google wants us to go across the natural reserves - then up to Chicago and around the Lakes. Nice restaurants and orchestra in Chicago I have heard. " 

"Stop that. " Aziraphale couldn't hold back his smile. 

"What? " 

"Tempting. You are tempting me." 

"I am not. Just saying what's on the table. " 

They stared at each other when the waitress takes away their plates - she has a pair of small adorable gray wings - and Aziraphale looked down for a minute and beamed at him brightly. 

"Well , I suppose I do want to try the American way of travel. " He said , and went silent for a while before saying quietly , "And thank you , Crowley." 

The black wings shook and spread open for a second as Crowley squirm uncomfortably in his seat , giving away his proudness under the stark cover. Aziraphale held his breath. The muscles of the wings stretched and dark feathers shimmered a warm radiance under the yellow light. Crowley had powerful wings , and they Were as big as those of Gabriel. Aziraphale probably needed them to stand side by side to truly compare. He caught himself wanting to touch the smooth and shiny inky feathers to feel how soft or stiff they are , if they were warm , or cold like stone. 

He was suddenly grateful that he was the only one to see.


End file.
